A Series of Once Was and Wishes
by Airian Reesu
Summary: Sesshoumaru's mother, a woman only a shadow of what she thinks she should be. And everything she does, everything she believes in, is all tied to that one boy who is almost nothing more than a stranger. [Extention of short collection, Ken]
1. Part I

This story should actually be put under the file, _Ken_, which is my 30shards collection, but this thing came out so long that I thought it should have its own file. So, this is Shard 12. I split it into two parts for easier uploading and reading.

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**Title:** A Series of "Once Was" and Wishes  
**Rating**: PG-13/T  
**Genre:** Drama/Angst/Tragedy  
**Squicks**: References to non-con sex/concubines, murder, death, and war. Also bastard!InuPapa.  
**Couple**: Sess + Swords (Tenseiga)  
**Theme:** #28 - Secrets (actually, it was hard to pick a theme…I had so many that would fit…)  
**Words:** 13,441 (give or take some edits)  
**Summary**: _There once was a woman…_ Sesshoumaru's mother, a woman only a shadow of what she thinks she should be. And everything she does, everything she believes in, is all tied to that one boy who is almost nothing more than a stranger.

**Note:** As you can see, this is rather long…and Tenseiga doesn't show up until the end…Also, this isn't how I normally picture InuPapa, but it's nice to step out of the box once or twice.

* * *

_-- _

_There once was a man who thought himself a demon lord. _

--

He was not large then; standing only average when compared to anyone else. But he was not like the others. He was a not-man of swagger and violence. He was a creature of will that would not bend.

He was too powerful for them.

"I have conquered you -- _demolished_ you-- and therefore I demand your allegiance. And tribute."

The elders of the pack dipped their heads in acquiesce, although they knew not what to give this self-named lord. Kneeling at the edge of a village crushed to the ground and lit by bloody flames, they could do nothing but allow him to chose.

Being an autocrat to the very soul he cast a heavy gaze along the surviving hordes. A swift movement and his choice was made.

"I'll take her."

-

_There once was a woman who found herself without a family. _

-

She knelt upon the soiled grass, eyes on the trampled, motionless blades even as he spoke. A moan rose around her in ignored protest and still she did not move. She thought of family shortly past, of horrors that sunk their dark fingers in her mind.

She could only put one face to her sorrows. And it was he who plucked her from the bloody ground and began to prod and pry, fingering her face, touching her breasts, breathing her in. It was only when she was labeled fit that he let her go.

"A perfect concubine."

She only stood, head hung low, as the elders murmured amongst themselves. But she was roiling inside, emotions like pungent lava in her gut as she gritted her teeth behind forced modesty.

"You can't give away our healer!" This from one of the village youths, his face bloodied and burnt. Around her age, he was a threat easily ignored. "We _need _her! Much more than _you_ ever will! Especially after what you did to us!"

The not-lord released her for only a moment. But she did not run, even when he returned with soiled claws and an even more soiled smile. "Any more protests?"

There were none.

-

_There once was a new house that was nowhere near a home. _

-

They traveled in the silence of strangers. It was a swift voyage with little danger. She had no belongings, no retainers, nor any idea of what she was getting into.

It was only when they landed in a slightly decrepit courtyard that he finally released her arm. One glance told her this palace was conquered. Waving over the multiple tiered roofs was a torn banner of another clan that, as she watched, was just being removed. Blood was being scrapped from the stone walls and the bark of overly large trees that clustered around the courtyard.

But the most telling of all were the bodies of enemies still strung from the walls.

"This is much larger than my previous residence," the not-lord said, not to her but to the air. He looked at her for the first time since he'd stolen her. "Go inside, the others will be here soon."

-

_There once was a woman who saw she was not alone._

-

Kneeling within the cavernous room, she listened to the lonely echoes of those recently lost. It reverberated in the air, this isolation, enclosing her and she felt so small. People unseen scuffled past her solitary room, tasks in mind as her thoughts wandered after them.

Then they came. Noise arose from the courtyard, the soft, cultured tones of woman and the creak of wheels. Rising, she crept to the door and was met with beauty. Alighting from palanquins powered by nothing more than air were creatures of resplendent silk and cultured poise. They ranged in all colors; hair, eyes and skin shining like luminescent jewels.

And at more than one pair of feet was a child. Tiny little dolls that bore a resemblance she'd rather not see. Each was a girl, tidied up like their mothers and all looked so out of place in the battle-torn yard.

She felt so plain then. Hair a shade of gray, eyes slate, and her skin work-stained made her wonder why she was here.

That thought lead to anger. With all these woman, why must she leave her home? Did he not have enough?

-

_There once was a woman of station, unloved._

-

She was soon not alone. They crowded into her once-large room, making it ever so small. She wanted to creep away, but was stopped by a woman. Or perhaps, _the _woman.

Decked in robes of uncountable layers she stood stiff and straight, fan poised, and her lip curled in unsightly disgust. She was lovely, but not young or fresh, and she knew it. Whey-faced, heavily polished, but her strength was more in her perceived size than her brilliance.

"Another one."

The woman was a dog, just as she. She had no right to judge, but did so anyway.

"My husband has been quite busy, has he not? A new conquered home and a brand new whore. And this one being so plain, too. I should feel insulted."

The others did not speak, having been trained well.

The woman sighed, her claws tearing her fan even as she smiled. "I suppose we should prepare you. Being new, you will be wanted tonight. New residences do not mean new habits."

-

_There once was a gathering of women, resigned. _

-

"Let me tend you hair. I can make it so lovely!"

She knelt upon a mat, newly washed and dried as her fellows flocked about her. One had her hands, others her feet. Claws skimmed her face, her naked flesh. She remained immobile, a plaything for them as they did what they knew best.

Someone tapped her forehead. "What is the meaning behind your mark?"

Biting her tongue, she remembered. Her family, a special clan blessed to heal. A twist of nature that left them marked as different. Blessed by the moon.

"If you do not wish to say, that is fine. We've all been through this as well, you know. The cold does not last long."

It was those words that made her ashamed. She was so hasty to judge, knowing now that they were just like her. Or had been, at least.

"I was stolen from my husband, because the Lord suffered a need," one said, voice low.

"I was given as penitence for my father's sin against the Lord, although I do not know what it was," another added, in her ear.

And she…she was a lonely woman taken in by a monster.

-

_There once was a plain woman that did not recognize herself. _

-

She gazed into the looking glass, not comprehending. That could not be her. This woman had skin scrubbed to a pearly sheen, her hair burnished silver. Her claws were cut and shaped, her hands soaked to lady-smooth. Even her eyes looked different, circled as they were by artful, artificial colors.

"Oh, don't you look marvelous?"

"That sea-pattern suits you so well!"

She never knew silk could feel so heavy. It was beautiful, yes, but not for her. To her it weighed a thousand pounds, soaked in sadness as it were. The eyes reflected at her glistened and she turned away.

That was not who she remembered. But it was who she was, now.

-

_There once was a woman who knelt, disgraced. _

-

His chamber was not really his, still bearing the artifacts of his predecessor. The futon still bore crumpled sheets from the old master's rushed awakening, the cupboards were open and ransacked from the servants' haste to steal and flee, and he stood right in the middle of it, grinning at his conquest.

"Come in here, don't be shy," he beckoned, crooking his fingers. It was not inviting in her eyes because she'd seen them in action. More than once. Not once had the experience been pleasant.

She did as she was told, knowing not what else to do. Shuffling on her knees and breaking slowly inside, she knelt prostrate before him.

"Ah, such a good girl. And pretty too, I see. I chose well."

Then his hands were on her, dragging her forward.

Soon she knelt again, heavy silk thrown over her shoulders, bruises on her tender skin as he mounted behind. She pressed her face into a dead man's sheets, biting back shameful tears as she tried to think of home.

But now it felt so lost and far away.

-

_There once was a household, full to the brim. _

-

"Kairi, stop running around! Honorable Mother does not appreciate such rowdiness."

She knelt among her new womenfolk, watching one of the ladies scold one of the younger girls. She did not know many of their actual names, just as they did not know hers. She told no one, keeping that secret tucked away.

"Ten-san, would you please help me for a moment?"

She glanced up at her new name. It was not so much a name as a sobriquet, fashioned after the mark on her brow. It did not bother her. It merely allowed for conversation.

"Of course."

Kneeling beside a sniffling girl-child, she worked her magic. She saw the other woman's smile bloom and knew she'd made another friend. Trapped as they were in the Master's residence as he waged yet another war, they were far removed from outside sources. Her ability to heal stopped many restless nights. Nothing she fixed was deadly but she appreciated the chance to practice her skill.

Once alone again she settled to sewing. Nimble fingers wove spider threads of silk for children's clothing. Nothing she made went to her own, for she had none to give it to. So she spun the cloth for lonely children who knew nothing of their father and yet lived forever in his shadow.

The house was so busy now, no longer the desolate burial ground of before. Servants bustled, children learned, and the women lounged fed and cleaned like favorite pets.

Stolen, forlorn pets kept in a blood-gilt cage.

-

_There once was a bitter woman who could still speak the truth._

-

"You will no longer be the favorite now, you understand?" It was Honorable Mother, painted and pressed with the normal perfection. Her face was blemished with a sour scowl. But her eyes shone with something that could be pity. An understanding.

"He will return here with another one like you to take his interest. Then you will merely become part of the rotation. Especially you, a childless one."

She hung her head in studied obedience. And yet she was relieved. She could only swallow so much shame in a lifetime.

She was pleased to have born him no children. She would not soil her line with his madness.

-

_There once was another victory._

-

"We will be leaving shortly," Honorable Mother told them all. "Lord Husband has found us another home."

And so they left. She felt no sorrow, for this was a place of disgrace and death to her.

They entered a cleaner courtyard, entered a larger room, and found another concubine kneeling just as she had done. She said nothing to her, only taking up the task of brushing her jade green hair as she was instructed.

Later on she watched her go, glad beyond measure that it was not she.

And, for that, she felt even more ashamed.

-

_There once was a time when complacency bred grief. _

-

He came to them all unexpectedly. His face was bright with anger, his eyes horrible with fervor.

They all crowded away from him, huddling together like frightened cattle. It was only Honorable Mother who stood against him, although she wavered like a sapling in the wind.

"My Lord, what brings you to the women's quarters?"

His gaze bore into Honorable Mother with intensity like steel. "I grow tired of _girls_."

Then the women watched in horror, stunned, as he tore a little girl from her mother and tossed her to the guard outside the door. Then went another. Then another. Now the women were screaming, trying to shield their children from his hands, but his claws found ways around them or through them, plucking up his own daughters like ripe fruit for ravenous villagers.

She knelt far away, seeing this and not believing. Blood was being spilt now, from both children and women, as he continued to weed out the weakness in his line. It was a war, mothers fueled by instinct trying to stop him.

That only irritated him even more until he was snarling. Eyes blood red, he began to cut the girls down in mothers' arms, not sparing them the sight. It was an ambush, one that fueled his demon blood to frenzy.

So when he turned eyes on her, the lonely childless one, she was shocked as she inched away at his approach. Amidst the wails of grieving concubines he cornered her. Claws dagger-sharp sunk into her, holding her down, tearing her clothes, and spreading her open for him. Soon she was forced to silent tears as he vented his frustration and anger out on her, his only whore left to fail him.

And all the others did was watch, struck by horror.

-

_There once was a joy that was nothing but shame._

-

Jealous eyes burned her back but she did not turn, gazing out the open door. Her arm rested across her ripening belly even as she felt their hatred. She now carried what they all had lost, all in a fit of pique.

Yet she could feel no pity. For they had done nothing for her.

It was not that all the children were lost. Older girls, the ones quite indistinguishable from their mothers, still lived. They were not the weak little ones and had thus escaped his wrath. They were not the precious ones much loved by the mothers. However, young children were not all the world was made for. That she knew.

Because she did not want this child.

-

_There once was an inopportune victory._

-

"The Master wants us to leave soon," Honorable Mother said.

She knelt upon her mat, arms crossed over her swelled abdomen, and felt a trickle of fear. Smoothing down the stretch silk she knew that she was past due. Moving was not a wise option.

But what she worried about more in that moment was from where that fear had sprung. It was a maternal fear, of which she'd hoped to have none. But there it was and she cursed herself.

As the others collected their things, Honorable Mother came to her side. Peering down she dictated, her tone succinct, "You come too, he said. He grows angry at your delay."

_Her_ delay? Teeth ground in a surge of rage. Was it her fault her child did not want to enter such a bitter, hostile world?

If it were up to her, she let them stay in her body forever. If only to spare them a cold, miserable fate.

The air choked in her throat as her thoughts jeered at her. _Her _child? When had she thought like that? It was not _her_ child; it was _his_. Any child conceived with such hate could only belong to that beast.

And for that, she must go.

-

_There once was a foolish woman who thought her heart was stone._

-

She bore the child as they traveled. It came on her suddenly, a rush of pain like none other. The women around her were trained to act, despite their feelings, and at least she was not alone.

She bit back her screams, only because she was so practiced in that art, and soon Honorable Mother stood above her, a squalling child in her hands.

She'd never seen that woman smile before. But there she was with her peevish face radiant, while _she_ was sprawled on a bloody, wooden floor.

"Thank the heavens… it's a boy."

And in that moment, she almost cried.

-

_There once was a woman who gave up something she did not want, yet felt bereft. _

-

Honorable Mother was the one to give the Lord the news. She offered him a silk-wrapped bundle and said, so simply, "Your son."

And he swept the boy up in the blink of an eye, his face more luminous than the very sun as he smiled. And she found him beautiful for the first time.

But she rather would not have. It just crumbled the wall she was futilely trying to build about her heart.

She'd given the child up long ago. It was not _hers_.

And yet, to her shame, she just couldn't keep her eyes off of that little body, cradled within the tyrant's arms.

-

_There once was a boy who bore an evil name._

-

"Sesshoumaru-sama, come _down_ here."

She watched, heart thudding in loathsome fear, as Honorable Mother stared down the rambunctious child, who crouched on one of the ladies' higher shelves.

He said nothing, for he could not speak yet, but even speechless he could find trouble.

The other ladies, many plump again with child, knelt around her, twittering with nervousness at the Master's heir.

But Sesshoumaru paid them all no mind, content to sit there, idly picking at his bare toes.

She gazed up at him, solemnly, trying not to see what her heart already screamed at her. This _was_ her son, no matter how much she denied it and everyone else ignored it. He looked so much like _him_; that was true. He even bore a name so befitting of his father's depravity.

But that slowly darkening moon spoke the other truth.

-

_There once was a boy who had more than one mother. _

-

"Why am I stuck in the women's quarters?" Sesshoumaru often complained, from where he was left kneeling amongst his father's many self-claimed "wives". They would not be called concubines when the Master's son was around. Whores were not noble mothers, which they all wanted to be.

And now, clustered around him as they were, he had an entire pack of them.

"My Lord is away, why not spend some time with us?" Honorable Mother asked, with a calm that barely hid the hope.

"But I don't _want_ to." He stood then, and the women shuffled back, startled. She watched with a hidden smile. "Father would not want me cloistered away with all of you. There is much else I can be doing, instead."

She smiled more, watching his short silver-white hair brush his shoulders. Hair that length was the sign of the young, as tradition demanded. But the way he stood --arms folded and head haughtily angled-- was not quite fitting with such an appearance.

She should feel ashamed, but she could not help but be proud of his arrogance. Because he was doing what she often dreamed to do.

Just once she wanted to speak down to these simpering females. Just once.

-

_There once was the Honorable Mother, the only one he must respect. _

-

They all were out walking one day, something they had begun to do in the afternoons. She loved this time, the freedom of wind on her face. As they shuffled along, slow and sedate despite her desire to run, they had to stop and step aside.

Sesshoumaru was coming towards them. He was steps ahead of his tutors, walking with a brisk pace of impatience. But, seeing them, he was forced to halt.

"Honorable Mother." Never once did he look beyond the woman at the head. Honorable Mother was the only one allowed to speak to him on such occasions, anyhow. The rest were just her multiple shadows of bowed heads and labored silence.

Honorable Mother smiled, enjoying the son that was not hers, and trapped him in a short conversation.

She, on the other hand, watched the boy's feet, watching him shifting and straining against his bred manners to break free. Leaning unconsciously away, hand tight around the new blade at his side, he looked as if he just wanted to run, get away from all this needless propriety.

Sometimes she wished he would.

-

_There once was a woman who lived in hypocrisy._

-

She knelt beside the half open door, watching. Sesshoumaru was outside, under the careful eyes of his tutors. He paced around the enclosed area, the others trailing behind and cursing his inability to remain still.

But he was listening to them, even as they struggled to keep up. The concentration in his eyes she recognized…from herself.

Her eyes fell shut then, breathing in. She was nameless, but she did not feel so. She was something else inside, but she refused to believe it. She'd told herself that long ago.

He was _not _her son.

Then why did she watch him so? This was not the place for women; she was outside their bounds. And yet she wandered there all the same and sometimes she dreamed…but those were all fanciful useless things.

He worked so hard to meet his father's demands, she knew this and it struck her. Sheer determination…such a sense of purpose…

Why did she do this to herself?

Leaning back, she traced the mark upon her brow. She was not the only youkai in the women's quarters to bear such a thing…in fact there were many. His didn't even match hers in color and size…and yet…yet…

Sometimes she dreamed of such stupid things.

-

_There once was a father who wasn't really one at all._

-

"Honorable Mother, when is Father coming home?"

"I do not know yet, Sesshoumaru-sama. But, please, come sit with me some."

He did so, kneeling in the place the women shifted aside to make for him.

She found herself somehow next to him. When had he gotten that big?

Accepting his hostess's polite offerings, he placed the cup aside quickly enough, still full. "He said I am soon old enough to go with him, but he has not been here in so long."

Honorable Mother smiled as a mother does upon a little child. "I am sure he will return soon, Sesshoumaru-sama. Life involves a little waiting, sometimes. My Lord will return here when he is ready."

Sesshoumaru said nothing after that. Head bowed he sat beside her and was nothing but stiff silence. It was not the quiet of a boy. It was the self-control of one much older.

She knew he was unhappy, even if the others did not. She just _knew_.

She remained mute beside him as Honorable Mother sought to break the hush. Calling in some entertainment, a recitation of the Lord's past victories commenced.

Sesshoumaru looked up once then sighed, sinking back to his thoughts.

And she understood then how she knew. He was not just quiet… no…it was that he held the resigned silence of a lonely, hopeful child.

Her heart ached.

-

_There once was a woman compelled by spurned instinct._

-

The not-lord did not come.

She knelt behind her door and watched Sesshoumaru take his frustrations out on his sparring partner. It was one of his father's guard-soldiers; a man threatened not to harm even when the young youkai began to easily take advantage of him.

They were not alone out there and soon the soldier was flushed and frenzied from the ridicule thrown at him by his fellows. He pushed back against his Master's heir and Sesshoumaru looked marginally surprised.

Then he gritted his teeth and fought back.

Amidst the panicked cries of the tutors and whoops of the guards, the two went at it; their swords flung aside in favor of claws.

She rose slowly to her feet, not really knowing…and then it happened.

Because, no matter his anger, Sesshoumaru couldn't stand out against an adult.

She didn't so much see it as _feel_ it, deep in her gut, when his skull cracked. He was nothing but a heap of useless bones and flesh soon after. His opponent fell over him with his final attack and _that_ woke the soldier up to what he'd just done.

No one said a word.

Not even when she was suddenly outside amongst the men. She fell to her knees at Sesshoumaru's side, hands stuffed in new-red hair searching to fix it…but…

She'd never felt so heavy before. Everything in her sunk --her heart, her mind, her body-- until she had her forehead pressed against his. He stared at her, but not really. But he was still breathing; she felt it against her cheek.

Maybe…maybe she could fix this…

-

_There once was a woman and a youth, tied. _

-

She'd never healed something this large in so long…but she tried. She pulled the strength she had stored away, hidden from the tiny world she kept.

And she felt something in him respond, sparked into stirring under her magic touch. It was so small she thought she was dreaming…but it really _was_ there.

Sesshoumaru truly was of her blood after all. He was not like her, but he was _part_ of her. She could not deny it any longer.

Just as she couldn't deny the joy the ripped through her the moment he mumbled a moan beneath her, lashes fluttering in false meekness as he struggled awake.

She only had a breath to meet his eyes before she was pulled away.

But that was all she needed.

Not only was he her son…she was a mother now, as well.

-

_There once was a boy that never was strong enough._

-

The not-lord returned soon after. Sesshoumaru had finally been allowed up by the estate's healer, who had insisted that the already-healed boy rest, despite all protest.

So the boy was caught unawares when his father dropped down in the middle court one afternoon. She was there, with the other ladies on their daily stroll, when he came down in a rage, teeth bared.

Sesshoumaru, stripped of all armor and clothed in nothing but soft silk, stared at him with frightened eyes.

The first thing the Master did was bark a name and had a familiar guard dragged in. He spluttered, then pleaded, and at the last screamed as the Master took off his head.

And all he had to say was, "I warned you."

Then he had Sesshoumaru in his grasp, pulling the boy forward by his chin.

She sunk her claws into the nearest woman --deaf to her pained surprise-- in order to curb her desire to run over there.

"What is this I hear of you, boy? A failure? I expect better of you. You should be stronger than that. You should have beaten him, a mere _guard_."

Sesshoumaru only gazed down at the windswept gravel, his face twisted in a self-depreciating grimace. "Yes…"

_No. _

She fought down her anger, a snarling beast that clawed her innards to be free.

That bastard didn't _understand_…he didn't understand at all. How could he expect the impossible from one still so young?

He needed time. But he had none.

Even from such a distance she could see the desperate determination in Sesshoumaru's eyes.

-

_There once was a woman whose past caught up with her. _

-

"You," the Master ordered then, pointed at her quite imperiously. She stared at him, not comprehending. He had not noticed her since those last few months after Sesshoumaru was born. She remembered that time well. He had tried to get another boy out of her, but had lost interest after a while.

She had been happy that his attention span was so very short. Now she wasn't, in regards to other matters. Or, perhaps, just a certain someone.

"Come with me," he told her and she did as she was told. She could do nothing else. As everyone else watched, she followed him through the court. She kept her head bowed as she approached the statue-like Sesshoumaru, who watched her with a quietly perplexed expression.

Just as she past him she shifted her arm _just so_ to brush her sleeve against his. She felt so giddy after that, like some little girl with a crush, and she was embarrassed. But now it was only the little things to tide her over…especially now that the estate manager --tiny little flea that he was-- had scolded her for leaving the women's quarters, amongst her other offences.

That, apparently, was what she was called out for.

They entered the house and she was led into the smallest audience chamber. She knelt as decorum demanded even as he paced.

"I was told what happened. You…healed the boy?"

She stared down at her hands, hating the coldness of the room and the heat of his eyes on her. She wanted the comforting, mellow warmth of her son again; he always sat just right with her. Not like this monster.

"…yes, Lord," she grudgingly answered as his impatience crawled over her skin.

"How is this possible." It was not a question but a demand for her to explain.

She bit her tongue and willed herself just to melt away. She did not want to tell him. This was her past; she did not want to give it to _him_. He had taken everything else…

"Explain." He seethed, angered by her perceived insolence. He slowly closed in his pacing until he circled her like she was prey. Which she was very close to being if his eyes told her anything. "Speak before I remove that reticent tongue of yours."

Head bowed low, she gave in and told him. Each word took a bit of her very soul with it.

"I come from a youkai clan renown for their singular abilities. I, like many of my fellow womenfolk, have been granted the power to heal, to repair the body and mind without the use of medicinal herbs. This skill was given the mark of this three-quarter moon," here she touched her brow even as her eyes remained on the floor. "As to the males, there were--"

"Weak and pathetic," he sneered suddenly, taking her aback. Her head rose unconsciously and she wished she hadn't looked up. His eyes were burning with something so close to hatred that she thought he might melt her there and then. "Why did you not tell me this before? Because of you, my son is now ruined."

She stared up at him, shocked. _Ruined?_ How could he call such a loyal boy ruined? Sesshoumaru did everything for his father: he fought for him, he struggled for him, he _breathed_ for him. And now this...this bastard…

"Because of this useless _talent_ of yours," he continued, scornfully, "your blood has created a blemish on a very powerful line of youkai. For my son to have such a purposeless ability as to _heal_…why, that is a simple waste of youki that can be used for much greater skills!"

She saw red. There was no other explanation for it. "Like what? Slaughtering the helpless?" she spat out through bared fangs. She was too exhilarated to feel afraid--this was _freedom_. The ability to _fight back_.

He hit her. Hard. The pain snapped over her face leaving her blind to anything else for so long. Her fingers flew to her face, feeling the blood running there, the torn skin that had once been a cheek. Her eyes welled with tears that she swallowed like putrid bile. This was the price of freedom.

"Get out of my sight, you damn bitch!" he roared, towering over her. He was intimidating the weak and she wanted to laugh. She just wanted to _scream_ her laughter at him, telling him _exactly_ what she thought of him.

She was vindictive, yes, but not suicidal. So, rising to her feet, she left. She intended just to walk right straight through the gate and out of this hell, but she was stopped by the guards and escorted back to her little prison cell filled with forgotten women and maternal longing.

But she couldn't help feeling just a small bit of satisfaction. She had not told him all.

He did not know about the poison.

-

_There once was a imprisoned woman worried for another. _

-

She sat within the small room, trapped in her indefinite seclusion. It had been this way for at least a month now, ever since her little spat with the so-called Master. Apparently he thought she would influence his other women with her wild ways. Preposterous, she knew. She had no more sway over those women than the wind had on a mountain.

And yet, sitting alone, she wondered why she was still alive. He was not merciful. She had seen him kill countless women. Perhaps…perhaps he felt at least some indebtedness to her for at least giving him a son. Even if he was so _ruined_…

She clenched her hands, forcing her rage to subside. There was a guard stationed outside her separate quarters and she did not want him in here. But, if she crawled carefully, she could reach the door. There she could find the hole she'd torn in the paper long ago and through it she could see the main courtyard.

She couldn't keep herself from watching, no matter how much it was tearing her apart. Her eye always found that hole and she would sit for hours on end, not moving at all, as her son worked himself to death.

And he was. Everyday, from sun up to sun down, he was working, learning, improving. It was as if he planned to shove a whole _lifetime _within only one season. He never seemed to stop, always on his feet and fighting even as he stumbled over himself in exhaustion. Either that or he was hounded by more and more tutors, who crawled after him like obsequious shadows.

She'd never seen someone work so hard. He had to be pulling his determination from his very bones because he looked so haggard and worn -- nothing like the boy she'd once known-- and yet he still remained standing.

But that couldn't last forever, she knew. Watching him now and the way he slipped over his own blood on the gravel, she felt her heart pounding erratically and she wanted to give some of this nervous energy to him. In fact, she'd give him every inch of power she possessed if only he'd stop this…

But, above all things, she wanted to talk to him. Because Sesshoumaru didn't know that he was worthless now.

No amount of training would clear his blood in his father's eyes.

That thought made her chest constrict painfully and if she were anyone else, she would have cried. But she couldn't do that anymore. Not even for Sesshoumaru.

But she could _hate_ enough for the both of them. She was good at that.

-

_There once was an ultimate shame._

-

She trailed along after the women's entourage, free now of her official seclusion. But no one wanted near her; she was a deadly disease, it seemed. She was content enough to follow after--she never was one of them, after all.

She could still remember the words of the estate manager from when he hopped up on her shoulder to whisper in her ear as she was lead to the women's quarters. "This is just the beginning of much worse things, my dear." He was not cruel, just truthful.

In the distance she could hear the training; it always had a sound of its own. She grimaced, like always. She listened to someone shouting, angry about some mistake. The more she listened, the slower she walked, until she stopped all together.

"Look!" It was that cry that drew her attention back to the women. One pointed up to the sky as they all raised their heads.

There was a palanquin there, flanked by a very familiar youkai. Her face darkened as she dug her claws into her palm. That bastard.

Noise swelled up in the courtyard as the soldiers and servants swarmed towards the Master's arrival. She turned just in time to see a streak of white push itself through the cluster of people, heading straight to the front.

Sesshoumaru --covered in scrapes, blood, and bruises-- wore an expression of heartbreaking anxiety as he emerged from the crowd just as the Master touched down.

An expression that easily morphed into one of absolute shock the moment the palanquin's flap was drawn aside and a woman stepped out. It was a youkai woman, and at her side stood a little boy.

"All bow before my Heir," the not-lord intoned, claw outstretched towards the new child, who stared at them all with wide purple eyes.

Everyone did as they were told. They all knew better than to disobey.

When she glanced at Sesshoumaru again his face astonished her. It wasn't angry, ashamed, or even glad that he didn't have to do this anymore.

It was _nothing_. He just stared at his father with blank eyes that made her very soul shiver.


	2. Part II

-

_There once was a boy that was not at all the same. _

-

She never learned the new child's name, although it was said constantly. It trailed through her mind and she let it go, not caring.

What she did notice was how _spoiled_ this brat was. His mother --a new favorite of Honorable Mother because she was a favorite of the Master-- did not lift a hand to care for him, leaving that responsibility to the other women. But the damage had already been done before their arrival here.

Apparently, they had been stored at one of the Master's other homes that the women had departed from not long ago. Her son had been born there and there he had run wild. So wild that he was a raging forest fire in comparison to Sesshoumaru's more composed and centralized flame.

That brat could get into more trouble in a day than Sesshoumaru had in all his life. He sometime even went so far as to make a scene in front of his father, whenever he came home. The Master would always punish him, accordingly, often in front of the crowd just to show he was still in control.

But she never failed to see the grimace of disgust on his face during those moments. She knew what it meant.

This boy was nothing like the son he'd given up, and he _knew_ it. He was just too damn proud to accept it.

She could not help but watch those beatings with a shameful heart full of joy, knowing deep down inside that he was a fool and that he was only getting what he deserved.

Then she would catch sight of Sesshoumaru, lingering at the edge of the crowd, and his blank face would freeze any warm thoughts out of her.

The Master may be a fool, but his pride had ruined everything for the one person she felt anything for in this place.

And she could not fix it.

-

_There was a son she no longer recognized. _

-

She barely saw Sesshoumaru any longer. Now that the brat was growing, and all attention was focussed on him, the other son was tossed in the shadows. It amazed her how easily he was forgotten. Gone were the teachers, the guards, and most of the servants. Only one would be seen hovering around the young youkai's quarters, waiting for him to either exit or return, she never knew which.

The best time to try to spot the boy was when his father returned. Sesshoumaru would always emerge from wherever he'd vanished to in order to be present, even as the Master ignored him completely. Yet he still came, remaining the obedient son he'd always been. He never said a word, except when spoken to. Which he never was.

According to the estate manager, who would sometimes hop her way, Sesshoumaru often disappeared for a long amount of time, only to return bloody and filthy, much to the estate manager's chagrin. The old flea never said much about it, but he always seemed to know that she was grateful for even that little bit of news, no matter how heartrending it was. Apparently he remembered that Sesshoumaru was her --and unfortunately _his_-- son, even if everyone else seemed to ignore that fact.

Sometimes, she wished her son would just run off and stay gone, but she knew that was impossible. His father would hunt him down. He couldn't loose anything that was _his_, even if it wasn't wanted anymore.

Sesshoumaru knew this, of course, and therefore he would always drag himself back from wherever he had gone, only to hide in his rooms to lick his wounds the best he could. Then, once his presence was recorded and the wayward object had returned, he would always leave again. Slinking in and out of the shadows, he would wander just far enough on his tether until he was snapped back again.

-

_There once were two boys that were so thinly united that the tie was nonexistent. _

-

"Ah! Look, there _he_ is!"

The brat sat upon the walkway, feet swinging ungracefully as the collected mothers clustered around him. He raised a hand, jumping up to attention. "Over there, see him. That ghost."

Kneeling back towards the house, she had some trouble seeing what he indicated. Inching up, she peered around the collected bodies and swallowed the heart that leapt to her throat.

It _was_ a ghost. The ghost of a beloved son, draped in white and propped against a tree. Sesshoumaru looked to be asleep, his eyes closed and everything about him strangely limp.

But the moment the brat stepped off the porch, he was alert. Gold eyes snapped open and narrowed in vehement anger.

"What, don't you even have a set of rooms now?" the brat sneered, malicious joy etched on his face.

Sesshoumaru gazed at him, unperturbed. He did not even rise as the brat stalked closer, mapping out a half circle as if he was hunting prey.

"What, can't you talk, _aniki-sama_? Maybe that's why Father gave up on you, huh? You're nothing but a stupid mutt, huh?"

Sesshoumaru didn't respond. He simply turned his head to the side, ignoring him.

The brat was not pleased. In fact, he began to scream and rant, spitting out terrible jeers that Sesshoumaru ignored completely. It was a one-sided fight as that brat continued to throw around words that, to her, spoke of nothing but his own insecurities. As she watched him become increasingly on edge, she realized that the brat hated his elder brother for many reasons. The most vivid one was fear.

She couldn't help it--it went against her upbringing and all her instincts-- but she felt _proud_ that her son could strike fear with just his silence. The brat couldn't even do that with a sword.

-

_There once was silence._

-

That was not the first nor was it the last that those two would meet. Every time the brat would speak, then yell, and his words would get him nowhere.

Never once did Sesshoumaru say a word to him. In fact, he never even acknowledged the other youkai's existence, openly.

But she knew that Sesshoumaru wasn't as inattentive of his sibling as he appeared to others. He was keeping a constant eye on the little brat. Sometimes she would see him hovering at the edges of the brat's training sessions, or haunting the edges of the garden during the younger youkai's daily visits.

As more time passed and the brat grew stronger, these strange behaviors in her son increased. It was almost as if he was stalking the younger boy, waiting for a moment of weakness.

Or, perhaps a moment of strength?

Because, no matter what he had lost, Sesshoumaru still had his honor, if not his pride.

-

_There once was a moment that changed everything. _

-

It was a normal day, just like ones before. The brat was out again, amongst his cloud of mothers and doing nothing but staring at the rising outer walls.

And then Sesshoumaru was there. He appeared as if imagined, stark against the gaudy kimonos on the walkway. He took calm, measured steps forward, eyes meeting the brat's for the first time.

Apparently the younger youkai wasn't as foolish as she'd thought. He leapt to his feet, hands scrambling for the sword at his side. He took a swing--

No one knew what happened until his head lolled across the polished grounds. The blood popped and hissed, boiling as it hit the ground, the flesh was melting away as they stared, wide-eyed. They didn't even think to scream.

And there Sesshoumaru stood calmly, gazing down at the slumping body with a look on his face that was too blank to be an expression. He shook his hand once, tiny droplets that were not blood falling from his fingertips and she _knew_ what it was.

Cast aside by one family, he'd awakened the power of the other. The power to heal…and destroy, that which she carried in her veins. And he would never know that. He would never get the chance.

As the unavoidable, hysterical cries began, she was forced to admit the truth to herself.

He would be dead within a day.

And she couldn't help but be glad.

-

_There once was a time when fratricide bought favor._

-

The not-lord came swooping home shortly after. Her heart trembled as she watched. He approached his only living son with smoldering eyes and Sesshoumaru stood calm, meeting his gaze squarely.

"You killed him."

"Yes." Simple as that.

The Master's face relaxed some and confusion bubbled through the crowd. Did he look…pleased? "With poison?"

"Yes."

"How did you come across this singular ability of yours?"

"Practice."

The not-lord laughed, a smirk of a sound, and he stepped over the laid out body of his youngest to clutch Sesshoumaru's closest hand. He did not notice his son try to step back. "From here, they tell me. Green, they said, and able to melt skin, muscle, and bone at the touch."

Sesshoumaru stared up at his father with placid eyes. "Yes."

"Father," the Master corrected, glancing up sharply.

"Yes…Father."

"Good boy," the not-lord said then, dropping his hand and shuffling him forward. "You shall come with me tonight, my son. We have a conquest for tomorrow."

"Yes, Father."

She suddenly had the urge to be ill. This was not what she'd wanted to happen…

She wanted the not-lord _angry_. She wanted this ghost of her son _dead_.

Because, staring into those darkened eyes, she knew that this wasn't _Sesshoumaru_ any longer. She just wanted his misery to end.

It was impossible now.

_I love you so much…please stop hurting like this… _

_-_

_There once was a time, like many others, when she could do nothing. _

_-_

She knelt through the years, demurely and in favor after the rest of her heritage was revealed to the Master. She watched what she could of the world at Honorable Mother's side, honored by the women but completely unknown to her own son. It was nothing different.

News came of the men's exploits. The Master plowing through the West until he had collected or killed every last scrap he could dig into. The not-lord had a faithful shadow at his side through it all. Where one name was the other was quickly dragged after.

She _heard_ more about her son than she _saw_ him. In fact, for an uncountable amount of time, neither came home and the women were left to linger.

Then, to everyone's shock, things _changed_. Aid began to grow scarce and soon they found themselves living on the edge of poverty as the castle decayed about them.

She thought herself above the splendor, but soon discovered that she grew annoyed at the sudden absence of wealth. She had grown soft it seemed from her once hardy family roots.

"Where has the Master _been_?" one woman asked as they hurried to collect water from the leaking ceiling one rainy night.

"Has he forgotten us?" another cried, trying to mend yet another hole in her once lovely kimono.

Honorable Mother did not answer. She merely looked haggard, a pale specter on the edge of the room.

Guards and servants were beginning to desert them now, for mysterious reasons. In a blink of an eye they were reduced to a handful of loyal retainers, one of which was the estate manager. The old flea looked so worn, especially after hours of frantic questions from the ladies.

"Things are not going well for the Master," was all he said.

She was afraid then, a sudden choking fear that threatened to kill her. Not going well…

It was only when the figure appeared in the rain that they learned the truth.

-

_There once was another woman. _

-

No one knew what to do at the warrior's approach and many of the women panicked. Their protection was gone and they had a right to fear this formidable figure walking towards them.

It was only as he drew closer that the fear turned to frenzied surprise.

"It's Sesshoumaru-sama!"

Heart up in her throat, she shoved her way to the front. It was just barely he, she noticed. He'd grown so much and wore a warrior's armor that made him look even larger. Soaked by rain and yet so pristine white, he appeared almost ethereal, a man that had built himself up within a body of stone.

He said nothing to them as he pushed his way inside, one of his soaked sleeves slapping her in the face as he came into the room. Only then did they notice the bundle he carried. Or rather…_whom_ he carried

It was a tiny slip of a girl in many layers of multi-colored kimono. Her face was nearly as pale as his, her makeup running in streams.

And she was blatantly _human_.

Honorable Mother was up in an instant, standing beside the boy that had once been scant inches below her height. He now towered over them all like a silent mountain.

"Sesshoumaru-sama…" was all she could say before the woman moaned from the floor. She said the Master's name.

All movement stopped. Then Sesshoumaru moved, turning back to the door.

"Father wants her cleaned up," he informed them, his voice cold. "He will be returning here shortly." He stopped, giving Honorable Mother a final glance over his shoulder. When he spoke it was with enough bitterness to make the other women draw back. "I would recommend that you treat her like some living doll--Father is quite possessive of his little _precious one_ here."

With that he was out in the storm once more, stalking off towards the left of the complex, vanishing from sight quicker than a mirage.

-

_There once was a time of unexpected warmth. _

-

The not-lord did return. He did not appear to notice the shabby establishment. He only had eyes for this human woman, who they'd noticed with some dismay was growing with child.

He was absolutely besotted with this girl, who did nothing but kneel at his side and gaze at him with shadowed eyes. He did not appear to care that the other women saw; in fact he would spend long uncomfortably hours in the women's quarters as the rest of the building fell around them.

Sickened by his presence and unable to contain herself, she went outside. It was winter now, the snow was harsh and biting, but she remained standing. Everything was falling apart--these were nothing more than extra pain to mix in.

"You should not be out here."

Her heart thudded in her ears, almost blocking out that agonizingly familiar voice. Turning, she saw Sesshoumaru standing behind her. He was covered in a layer of white snow, frozen strands of hair glimmering in the faint light.

Her lips felt frozen. It was only the overworked beating of her heart that made them able to move. "My apologies, Sesshoumaru-sama…" she whispered, the first words she'd _ever_ spoken to him in all these years. There was so much there, behind them, and her eyes stung.

_I am so, so sorry… _

He was at her back in a flash, arms snaking around her to cross her chest. Surprisingly warm hands gripped her arms as matted hair coated her like ice. She couldn't move, feeling him this close with his breath on her neck and his lips against her ear.

Life was full of irony…irony… That he should love her like _this_…

"Sesshoumaru-sama, I--"

"It's all that woman's fault that everything is falling apart," he whispered in her ear, his voice pitched so low she barely heard him over the wind. "Do you not think so, mother?"

Mother.

-

_There once was a bittersweet moment of family. _

-

"How did you…?" she began to ask from her semi-dry corner. Huddled under a piece of his travel costume, she sat in what had once been his room. There was nothing here now besides old, rain-drenched furniture and a few travel bags. It was a frugal lifestyle, born of wandering.

He stood, back to her, in the open doorway. Snow whipped into the room, coming to rest within arms reach of her feet.

"Figure it out? Simple enough. You still happen to have living relatives. Some of which bear a mark I can quite identify with."

Her breath caught in her throat. _What…? _ "How can that be…I saw them all be slaughtered by--" she stopped, not willing to go on.

It wasn't as if he didn't know, however. Glancing back at her, he gave her a solid, opaque look. "My Father, yes. Your so-called husband, yes. I know all that. So do they. And yes, one _did_ survive--a young cousin of yours. Must I say that she was not very pleased to see me?" He laughed, humorlessly, a grimace of a smirk crossing his face.

She just stared at him in silence.

"Do you know what's happening, with Father I mean?" he asked her, softly. She shook her head, eyes pleading with him. She didn't know what she asked, but she knew she wanted to _give_ anything in return.

Sesshoumaru sneered, his head whipping around in the direction of the women's quarters. "He's been taking human women now. Not by conquest, but through stealth. He grabs them from their sleep, little whores for his abnormal tastes. I've lost count of the number of aborted hanyou."

He looked at her then, his eyes glistening in anger. "It is for this _lust_ of his that I waste my time--that he lets his empire fall to ruins. The empire that belongs to _me_--he owes me at least that much." The last was growled like a true canine, raising the hackles on the back of her neck. Yet his face returned to its natural smoothness in an instant, like ripples disappearing under the placid mirror of a lake.

She knelt, cowed by his wrath, staring at the stiff line of his back. Then her fingers gripped the fabric draped around her and all she saw was kindness. Small, absentminded, but it was there all the same.

"Sesshoumaru-sama…" she began, hesitant. "Why is this woman here, then?"

He did not raise his voice to her again, as she thought. In fact, he sounded weary and much older than he was. "Pride. Other youkai called Father a wasteful fool, told him that he should not take a human. But he does not answer to others--at least he tells himself thus-- and therefore he took and kept the next he found. It just happened to be this contemptible wretch.

"Did you know that she cried nearly the entire trip here?" he commented, a stab at nonchalance. No one but she would note the quavering of his voice.

She rose to her feet, went to go stand beside him, but he stopped her with a glance. "You must return now; they know you are gone."

She bowed her head. "Of course."

A stirring of snow and she found herself at the door to the women's quarters, warmth gone from her shoulders and Sesshoumaru faded into the white curtain beyond.

But, standing there with chilled feet, she found herself revoking her foolish, selfish wish. For this may not be the boy she'd yearned to understand, but it _was_ the man she finally got the chance to know.

_Let him live forever_ she pleaded to no one but herself.

-

_There once was a sword smith._

-

"Ah…so this is the fang, then?"

The Master sat with his new pet in the women's quarters. Across from him knelt a scraggily youkai with great bulging eyes. The other women giggled about the eccentric old man from behind well-placed screens. She just watched him.

"Yes," the Master said, closing his mouth and pointing an imperious claw at the other youkai. "You are Toutousai, the smith able to make youkai swords of immense power, are you not?"

"So they say…" the old youkai replied, airily.

"Then you shall make one for me."

"For you, huh?" Toutousai remarked, a blackened claw tapping his pointed chin. He peered at the Master, bug-like eyes narrowing. "No."

That word reverberated in strained silence. The women were too frightened to even whisper amongst themselves.

"No," the Master asked, evenly. His eyes blazed like torturous flames.

The old youkai shook his head as if displeased. "That's what I said, isn't it? _No_. I won't make this sword for _you_, Inu no Taisho." He swung a finger around to the cowering woman at the lord's side. She covered her face with a moth-eaten fan. "But I will do it for _her_."

Silence again and the lord actually appeared flabbergasted.

"That is what you want this blade for, isn't it?" Toutousai asked, shifting on his knees. "For this hanyou you insist on bringing into this world? I guess I must give you more credit, Inu no Taisho. You aren't as bone-headed as they all say you are."

While the not-lord growled his dislike for the old youkai's cheek, she watched Toutousai. She was shocked when he turned her way and grinned.

-

_There once was a disgruntled youth._

-

"He is having a sword made."

It was not a question, but she nodded anyhow as she once again huddled under a far-too large haori. Sesshoumaru actually sat for once, legs crossed and his expression both bitter and thoughtful. Wind roared in through the half-closed door, snow buffeting the thin shoji like a tsunami wave.

"One which he cannot use himself?"

She nodded once more, tucking her hands within the sleeves. "The old man returned again to speak to him and I listened to them." She should have felt ashamed, but she did not. "He took a fang from the Lord's mouth to create this sword."

"And he intends to pass it down to the bastard child?"

She couldn't stop herself from flinching at those words. "Yes, Sesshoumaru-sama."

Sesshoumaru was on his feet shortly after, pacing in small controlled circles, arms crossed within his sleeves. His anger trailed after him, palpable in the frigid air. She watched him pass, worry bubbling up in her chest.

But she dare not say anything, so all she could do was wait. She was surprised when he stopped abruptly, collecting something from one of his bags upon the floor. Coming over to her, he held it before her eyes. "For you."

She recognized it immediately--it was one of the robes she had once worn in her village. She stared at it, uncomprehending. Mild irritation crossed Sesshoumaru's face before he dropped it in her lap. She clutched the material reflexively. "Think of it as a gift from your living family, although they do not know it is gone."

Her lips moved but she didn't know what to say. Words truly were useless at such a time, anyhow.

-

_There once was a parting to leave her lonely._

-

"Where do you go now, Sesshoumaru-sama?" she asked softly, hovering in the open door as he prepared to leave. She felt out of place here, being uninvited and having forcefully breached ingrained protocols. But she would not let her own weaknesses keep her away any longer.

"Father has been challenged by a clan of cats from the west. Even he cannot let such a threat alone. It won't just _disappear, _much as he'd wish it would." He glanced back at her then, a contemptible sneer hovering just on the edge of his lips. For her sake, he turned back around.

"Why must you go?" She spoke before she could think it through and she swallowed the biter aftertaste of those words with a grimace. She was not here to whine or coddle. That was impossible.

"Must you ask?"

"No, I suppose not."

She watched him go, disappearing into the deep forest with his Father. The not-lord did not look back once, but Sesshoumaru just trudged ahead, unfazed by the old youkai's indifference.

Seeing this-- knowing what was to come, what _had been_-- she so dearly wanted to know _why_ he would put his life on the line for _him_.

But there just some things she could never understand.

-

_There once was a crying, frightened woman. _

-

It was not long after the men had left that the human woman finally let go of that hanyou child. It was a painful progress. She knew, because she had been forced to aid the others. Even with the assistance of multiple demon women, the human still bled terribly, her blood scent stinking up the entire castle.

It was for this reason that they were all pleased that the Master was gone.

She had the position beside the woman's head, a damp cloth over the human's fevered, tearful eyes.

"This isn't real…" the woman mumbled, incoherent. "This isn't a baby…this can't be life…Babies aren't killers and I'm going to die…I don't want to…"

"Oh, shut up," one of the nearby women hissed.

"I hate him…" she breathed, ignoring the angry woman as her painful eyes pinned on _her._

Startled, she could do nothing but tell her the truth. "I know. So do I."

Then the woman screamed and screamed, her voice dying hoarse and they all cowered back in pain. The same woman as before struck her hard, cutting of the squeals momentarily. "Be quiet and take it like a _real_ woman!"

The human didn't even try. Amidst her own wails and broken sobs came the gurgled cries of an infant.

None of them were very pleased.

"But at least it wasn't deformed _too_ much," one woman mumbled as the new mother wept wretched tears onto her baby's little head.

"Although its dog-ears were very stupid," another sneered.

But what _she_ saw, what made her stomach sink deep, was that this terrible thing was a _boy_.

She'd come to expect the worst with those.

-

_There once was a mighty sword._

-

"He's not at home?" the old sword smith asked, looking perplexed. Honorable Mother stood at the door; her stern expression marking no passage as the others clustered behind her in the shadows. The human woman was still stuck in bed, her baby clawing at her breast as she whimpered.

Toutousai craned his neck to see back into the room but Honorable Mother blocked his view. "I will call a guard to escort you off the premises, sir," she lied boldly, knowing very well that they were defenseless.

The old youkai shook his head, stepping back. "Ah, I mean you know trouble, Honorable Lady. I merely came to give your Lord his commissioned sword."

Apparently eager to show off his masterpiece, he drew the sword with a flourish, making the women draw back in fright. But they all calmed when the blade came into view. It was old and rusted, nicked in innumerable places and hardly worthy of a youkai Lord.

"Are you…sure you have brought the correct sword?" Honorable Mother questioned, cautiously.

The old youkai nodded, shoving the sword back into its sheath. "Yes, I am quite sure. It is a sword of the like I've never made before. Tessaiga is a weapon in a class of it's own!"

The women in the room giggled.

"Perhaps you would like to stay until the Lord returns?" Honorable Mother asked, apparently finding his senility amusing. "I can have someone serve you tea."

"Yes, please!" Toutousai exclaimed, his big eyes wide. "I would appreciate that very much. I can't tell you the last time I had some good tea!"

The women tittered again while she watched the man with narrowed eyes.

When the old youkai was settled, she was the first to volunteer. Honorable Mother let her go.

-

_There once was an old youkai who held a false face of senility. _

-

"Ah, thank you so much, Honorable Lady!" old Toutousai crowed, slurping the tea she poured him. She sat with her head bowed to hide her face as she tried her best to play the proper lady. She had not had to do this in many years.

"Honorable Master honors this humble one with his kind words," she whispered, hands dainty in her lap.

"I see your Master's hanyou child survived."

The abrupt change in conversation left her hanging for a moment. She felt the old youkai's eyes on her. "That is not for this humble one to speak of, Master," she stalled, not knowing if she should divulge this information or not.

Because, she may hate _him_, and she may find that human wretch disgusting, but she couldn't find any fault in the little boy. She'd discovered this a few days ago after she'd pondered it over relentlessly. What harm could a hanyou do to her son? That was all she had to worry about.

"This sword was made for that boy," Toutousai remarked. His tone was light but she read the depth underneath. He already knew and her resistance was unnecessary. "That is the only reason I am here."

"It was less than a week prior, Master."

"I see… And it appears that you've all been kind enough to keep the two of them fed and cleaned, despite certain things…" he remarked, shrewdly.

"Yes, Master," she murmured. She could play this game, too. "There is much needed for a child, no matter the species."

"You would know, wouldn't you? I'm sure your son was quite a handful."

Her blood ran cold, instantly.

-

_There once was an old friend of her youth._

-

She lifted her head then and found Toutousai peering at her intently. "How do you know of _my_ son?" she demanded, eyes narrowing.

The old smith simply took a sip of his tea. "You wouldn't happen to know of Bokusenou?" he asked simply, switching topics like the wind changed directions.

_Bokusenou_. Her heart jumped at the name. "I--" she began, but Toutousai began to speak again.

"He is an old forest spirit who dwells very close to your old village, isn't that right?"

"Yes, but--"

"He remembers you quite fondly and knows much of what had happened to you, Ten-san." Those bulging eyes looked strangely serious in spite of their peculiarity. She was not shocked by the use of her recent name. This man knew far too much, more than she'd ever imagined. "In fact, he wished for me to give you greetings and tell you that he saw your boy recently, passing through his woods."

Her mouth felt oddly dry. She wasn't the only one who knew… And that she had such a venerable spirit as old Bokusenou interested in her son… She could barely keep her heart from fluttering outside her chest.

"You might as well have some of that tea, Ten-san. There is no way I can drink it all and make the ride home without stopping," the old youkai said with a crooked grin.

She did as he said automatically, forgetting etiquette completely in her shock. She was remembered…

"In fact, it was Bokusenou who gifted me with the wood to create Tessaiga's sheath. That's when he asked about you," Toutousai was saying as he watched her drink. "He also said it was a shame that such a boy as yours would be left with nothing for all his hard work."

She dropped the cup in her hands, spilling the scalding tea over the front of her robes. But she made no motion to clean herself even as Toutousai stared at her in surprise. "He has worked so hard…" she croaked, something other than tea choking her. "And all for…all for…" she couldn't say it. It just broke her heart.

Toutousai looked at her with kind eyes. "I see that you know as well as I do that the Inu no Taishou is loosing his land and prestige. This hanyou is only adding to his troubles."

Her hands clenched in her lap as something hotter than the tea burned her eyes. She couldn't bring herself to say anything. It just hurt so much.

"Perhaps," Toutousai remarked, offhandedly. "If I were to get another fang I could…Well, I could give that boy at least _something_."

-

_There once was a Dragon. _

-

She didn't get a chance to decide. Toutousai's head whipped up suddenly and he stared straight into the ceiling with frightened eyes. "Oh no…"

She went to ask him what he meant, but then her nose caught the heavy scent of dragon. A dragon which was descending on the castle as they scrambled to their feet. The earth trembled as she made her best attempt at a sprint back to the women's quarters.

Everything around her was heaving, smoke filled the air. As she rounded the corner she heard the shrieks and stopped short. Toutousai stumbled to halt beside her before taking a hasty step back.

There it was. A powerful sinuous body of fire-touched scales topped with a massive, _smirking_ head. The few loyal guards that had stayed on where nothing but meat under the beast's heavy coils.

The dragon lowered its head to peer into the main door to the women's quarters, where she saw Honorable Mother standing, hands braced against the doorframe. "Be gone, Dragon! It is nothing but women and children here--"

"As I expected," the Dragon hissed with a mammoth voice, tongue slippery against bloody teeth.

It happened so fast that she barely saw it. One moment Honorable Mother stood there, and the next…she was gone, the Dragon was crunching on her bones.

The women inside screamed, their voices mingling with the crackling flames.

She didn't have time for that. Pushing open the closest door, she grabbed Toutousai's arm. "This way. We have to get them out."

He stared at her blankly, his expression just edging on terror. "This really isn't what I came here for," he whispered.

She merely pushed him into the dark passage before snapping the door shut.

-

_There once was a moment of compassion. _

-

There was only one other entrance out of the women's quarters. She was just able to reach it as the castle shuddered, the frame cracking under the pressure of the Dragon's tail against it. She stumbled, coughing in the smoke. More women screamed and suddenly the door in front of her was whipped open.

Standing there was one of the women with her daughter. Both where burnt and gagging. They barely saw her as they ran off into the belly of the castle. She went to go call after them, telling them to stop, but it was useless.

"Come on," she growled, grabbing Toutousai once again and forcing him into the smoky room. Blurred shapes buzzed around her as fire ate at the walls. Women were shrieking.

Grabbing the closest body, she shoved them out the door. "Run _out _of the castle!" she shouted as she snatched another. She saw Toutousai finally cooperating, running closest to the flames to gather up the women.

The castle trembled again as she charged into the fray, sleeve over her nose as she tried to direct the frenzy. It wasn't working as well as she'd planned, especially when the Dragon's claw cut right over them, tearing a sizeable hole in the roof. That left most of the women paralyzed in fear.

"GO!" she screamed, her voice hoarse.

That was when she heard the wailing infant.

Turning slowly, she saw two terrified eyes peering up at her from the corner futon. "I can't walk!" the human screamed, attempting to rise one last futile time. "I don't want to die!" she wailed, holding out the keening infant as if he could save her.

She stared at them. The human cried, tears rushing down her face.

_'… she cried nearly the entire trip here…'_

Gritting her teeth, she ran over to them. Grabbing the woman by her arms she hauled her to her feet. Bending down, she tossed the startled human over her shoulder, feeling the woman tuck the baby close to her shoulder.

As she ran through the haze to the almost invisible door, she saw her son just like he had been that day, back to her in almost shameful silence. That had been compassion, hadn't it?

She wanted that compassion to have come from her.

-

_There once was a time to run. _

-

She ran. The castle was falling into itself, burned out. She saw a glimpse of the old sword smith fleeing the flames, but that was all she had time to see. The human woman was an extra burden on her already stressed body.

But she had to make it to the woods.

"Oh, why is this happening?" the human wailed in her ear, tears scalding her cheek.

She ignored her. She heard the Dragon roar and she ran faster. Straining, she tried to force the material binding her legs to split, but it would not. The imposed splendor was slowing her down.

The ground danced under her feet but she kept going. She was almost there--she saw the woods. Just keep running and running…

Something long and sharp pieced her back suddenly, causing her to stumble. Choking on the blood the rushed up her throat, she struggled to continue. There was a wet pop and pain flashed through her, but she was able to run again. The Dragon bellowed behind her, sounding so dangerously close, but she kept running even as the blood burned down her skin.

There. Bramble snapped under her numbing feet as she broke into the trees. The smoke had to have reached the forest--everything was so blurry here. She coughed, trying to clear her lungs, but it hurt too much. Arms trembling, she lowered the human woman down to her feet.

"You have to be strong and run!"

The human just stared at her, her child whimpering against her.

"Go!" she shouted, her voice gurgling in her throat uncomfortably.

The human didn't budge, looking terrified.

_Stupid woman. _She thought, bitterly._ Don't you have any motherly instinct? It is for the female to protect the child, no matter your weakness… _

_That's something I should have known so long ago… _

Gathering up her waning strength, she went to attack the woman, claws extended. Apparently her bloody, battle torn form had the effect a normal courtesan would not. "GO!"

The human left. The woman was as graceful as a newborn, but she managed to stumble away and out of sight.

Only once the human was gone did she let herself close her eyes. She felt suddenly very heavy and tired. Perhaps she would just wait here for Sesshoumaru…

-

_There once was a woman…_

-

"Hey! Ten-san!"

Somewhere far away she was shaking. It didn't make sense.

"Are you still alive?"

Alive? Was she…? She didn't quite know. Somehow she saw so many faces and things where there really shouldn't be any. It all danced before her eyes and she tried to catch just one, to hold on to a tiny thread of coherence.

One face was thrown into focus as scraggly hair brushed her face. "Hey! We have to get out of here."

She saw Toutousai's face but wished she didn't. That wasn't who she was looking for.

"The Inu no Taisho arrived--don't you feel the earth moving?"

Where was he?

"Are you listening to me? Ten-san…no, _look_ at me. Can you get up?"

Her eyes wandered. _Where are you?_

Toutousai continued to speak to her but she didn't listen. All she could think was that he wasn't coming. It was a joyously lonely thought. At least the last thing she would see wouldn't be her son's death.

Somewhere within the overcrowded spiral of her mind, two thoughts collided. Toutousai…Sesshoumaru.

-

…_who sacrificed everything. _

-

"Take…my fang." It wasn't her voice. It was a crone's. It was a withered, broken thing. It did not display the power of her conviction, or the explosion of relief throughout her cloudy brain.

She wasn't going to die, was she? She was going to live just for him, wasn't she?

"_What?"_

"Take it."

Toutousai sputtered, stuttered, protested. She would win this battle.

She wasn't above begging.

"Please."

He conceded. He didn't not say the words, but she knew it by the way his shoulders sank.

"You…remember what you said…don't you? Make it something great…give it to him, please." Her throat was uncomfortably tight and she forced the words through sheer will alone.

A pause and her eyesight wavered. It frightened her…

"All right. I will give it to him. He will learn of his mother's noble--"

…but not nearly as much as those words.

"No."

"Ten-san…"

"It is to be from his father. I--"

…_am no one of any importance. _

She was nothing. Nothing but a forlorn broken woman.

But she could die with that. It was so simple to do and she'd had enough struggles in her life.

"Before I die…please…"

She didn't even feel it. She just stared at the smoke above them, the earth trembling so far away from her that she felt as if she was floating. Echoing down the tunnel of her life she heard a roar, knew a battle raged, but she just closed her eyes.

All the fight had run out of her. It was finally time to rest.

-

_There is a blade, Tenseiga._

-

A little girl lays in the grass, waiting with the rest of her party for that strange old man to come back. She pulls idly at the weeds, gathering them in her hand because she thinks they're pretty, even if they aren't real flowers.

"Jaken-sama, what's Tenseiga?"

The little demon glances at her, eyes narrowed. "You are a very stupid girl, aren't you? As if you don't know that Tenseiga is Sesshoumaru-sama's sword."

"I know _that_." Rin tosses a stem at Jaken, but misses. She continues, eagerly. "But, that doesn't really answer Rin's question. What_ is_ Tenseiga? What makes it special? It isn't like any other sword Rin has ever seen."

Head up, beak out, Jaken puffs up like an arrogant bullfrog. "It is a sword from Sesshoumaru-sama's honorable father, the Great Inu no Taisho."

"So?"

"SO!"

"That Inuyasha has a sword from Sesshoumaru-sama's father, too."

"You--"

"Rin remembers a little," the girl begins, ignoring her companion. "Rin really doesn't like to remember most of it, except for…well, Rin doesn't really know what to call it. It felt like…like." She stops, knitting flowers between her fragile fingers. "It wanted to help Rin… It…was warm…it whispered…"

She stopped, questioning with her eyes. "Is that Tenseiga?"

Jaken doesn't comment. His stubby fingers drag through the grass and he doesn't admit it. He'd felt all that, too.

Rin looks up from her sprawled weeds, watching a familiar white shadow haunting the edge of their field. He is mending, she knows, but something still isn't quite right.

Something's missing.

It's only once that sword comes back and they're walking again that she feels better. It's only then that the picture's complete.

Because, to Rin, Sesshoumaru-sama isn't the same without that sword. Tenseiga has _always_ been there.

Always.

Trailing at Sesshoumaru-sama's side, she watches the sword and tries to find something different about it. Something _she_ can see.

But there is nothing. The sword is content in its silence.

Almost as if there's nowhere else it could possibly wish to be.

And Rin understands.


End file.
